


A Guy Walks Into a Bookshop

by RosiePaw



Series: Bookshop Tales [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-12 00:29:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19217932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosiePaw/pseuds/RosiePaw
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley aren't the only ones who had an interest in saving the world.





	A Guy Walks Into a Bookshop

A guy with a beard and long hair walks into a bar.

Well, no, not exactly.  He walked into a bookshop.  His beard was neatly combed, and his long hair was caught back in a pony tail.  He wore jeans and a T-shirt with the word PEACE printed on it in as many languages as would fit on the shirt.  This would have been an observer’s first clue that things might not be completely as they seemed.  First, the longer one looked at the shirt, the more languages appeared to fit on it.  Second, although the wearer appeared to be in his early thirties, some of the languages had not been spoken for some millennia.  One was Enochian.

The jeans were unholey.

Most bookshop owners would have hoped the fellow would actually buy something and not spend hours browsing, then drift out the door again.  The owner of this particular shop hoped exactly the opposite.  Then he did a double-take and realized that he recognized the man.  He can be forgiven for not doing so immediately.  It had, after all, been a couple of millennia.

“Aziraphale!” said the man with a smile, approaching the owner.

“Yeshua, dear boy!  You’re looking much better than, er, the last time I saw you,” replied the owner, realizing halfway through the sentence that he might be committing a faux pas.

Yeshua grimaced.  “Yeah, that was a bad scene.  I still cringe a bit any time someone says TGIF.”

“Tee gee eye eff?  The good is fu- er, fine?”

Yeshua laughed.  “Nice one, Aziraphale!  Hey, I was kind of hoping I’d see you at the coming out.”

“I asked to be there, but Gabriel made it clear I wasn’t needed,”

“Yeah, Gabe can be kind of… proprietary.  What with getting to be the one who told Mum she was pregnant and all.  Which she says she already knew, ‘cause it had been a couple of months and…”

The shop door opened again.  “Angel!  There’s a table free at the Ri…  Oh.  Er, hi, Yeshua.”

The newcomer seemed a bit diffident, but Yeshua’s smile was undimmed.  “Crowley!  How’s it going?”

“Uh, well?”

“Y’know, I still remember our trip up the mountain and your offer to take me travelling.  Later on, when things got rough, it meant a lot to me that someone had cared enough to offer an alternative plan, even if I couldn’t take you up on it.”

Crowley recovered quickly.  “Yeah, well, that’s me, alternative Plans!”

Behind their backs, Aziraphale rolled his eyes.

“The offer’s still open, by the way,” Crowley continued.  “Different kingdoms in the world now, of course, but some things never change.”

“Hey, thanks!  I might take you up on that!  Actually, I’m glad you’re both here.  I wanted to say thanks from me, personally, for…  Well, you know.  Kind of making it all worthwhile.”

Aziraphale frowned slightly.  “I’m not sure I follow.”

Yeshua took a deep breath.  “When Mom first told me…  I mean, I knew it was gonna be bad.  I _thought_ I knew how bad.  She didn’t explain…”  His mouth worked, but no further words came out.

“It may be blasphemy to say so, but I don’t think She _could_ have, not in a way that you would have understood,” Aziraphale said softly.  “Some things you need to experience for yourself.”

“If anyone had tried to tell me how it would feel to Fall, I wouldn’t have believed ‘em,” Crowley added.

“It fuckin’ _hurt_ ,” Yeshua burst out.  “The lashes and the nail and that idiot soldier sticking his spear in my side, why’d he have to do that?  It was completely gratuitous!  And Mum and the guys standing there crying, and I kept reminding myself, there’s a purpose for this, you’re doing this for a reason…  And the pain went on and on and _on_.  And then I died and went to Hell.”  He closed his eyes and started taking deep breaths.  His shoulders were shaking.

Crowley and Aziraphale looked at each other.  _Say something_ , mouthed Aziraphale.

“That was three days no one Down There will ever forget,” Crowley started off.  From the look on Aziraphale’s face, this wasn’t quite what he’d meant, but Crowley forged on.  “They were still talking about it the next time I was down.  I got the impression it was pretty harrowing for everyone concerned.  Hey, say hi to Jacob for me.  Haven’t seen him since you took him back Up with you.”

Aziraphale looked a bit surprised.  “You knew Jacob?”

“Please.  Two wives _and_ both their handmaidens, twelve sons plus all the daughters no one ever seems to remember?  Jacob was the world’s easiest mark when it came to tempting someone to commit fornication.”

“I’m not sure that was temptation,” put in Yeshua, who seemed to have recovered a bit.  “Jake’s just like that.”

Crowley’s eyebrow raised above his dark glasses.  “Still at it?”

“Still tryin’.”

Aziraphale giggled, and that set the other two off.  The resultant fits of laughing went on for a while.

“Oh,” said Yeshua, wiping his eyes.  “Oh, I needed that!  Okay, I still haven’t told you what I came to tell you.  The thing is, Mom said that if I went through all that, that…”

“Shit?” offered Crowley.

“Pain and suffering,” started Aziraphale firmly.

“All of that,” continued Yeshua, “Then the world would be saved.  And I figured okay, that’s worth it, because I thought She meant _forever_.  Then the next thing I know, John’s dropping acid and writing about the Apocalypse but, y’know, _John_.  Sweet, sweet guy but when he’s tripping, whoa, watch out!  And then his stuff turned out to be a best-seller, who knew? Even generated some fanfic." ( _Fan fick?_ Aziraphale mouthed.) "But still, people read all kind of things and nothing comes of it.  Lots of people read Tolkien, but I’ve still never seen a real live hobbit.  And then suddenly Heaven was _mobilizing_.”

“So was Hell,” Crowley pointed out.

“Yeah, but Heaven’s where I _live_.  And there were draft notices going out and recruitment posters and the Metatron making public announcements.  I tried asking Gabe and Michael about it, and they just looked at me like I was some _kid_.”

Aziraphale looked as if he badly wanted to say something but wasn’t going to because it might be taken the wrong way.  Crowley had no similar deterrents.  “There _is_ a bit of an age gap.  Just because you’re the Boss’ son…”

“Yeah, I know.  I tried asking Her, too.  And Mom just smiled and shuffled her deck of cards.”

“We figured out, Crowley and I,” said Aziraphale carefully, “That the Grand Plan for the end of the world wasn’t Her Ineffable Plan.  It’s _possible_ that Gabriel and Beelzebub came up with it on their own.”     

Yeshua looked dubious.  “Those two?”

Crowley pointed at him.  “That’s exactly what I said. They don’t have the imagination.  I think it’s higher up.  The Big Boss, well, _my_ Big Boss, well, my _former_ Big Boss from down there.”

“Satan,” Aziraphale specified, “And I _think_ – I’m not sure, mind you – but possibly…”

“Spit it out, angel.”

“The Metatron.  Who also doesn’t have much imagination.  It’s _possible_ that they were influenced by John’s, er…”

“…Acid-fueled hallucinations,” Crowley finished.

Yeshua nodded grimly.  “That makes a weird kind of sense.  Look, I figure the three of us are all on the same side.  We’ve saved the world.  We _care_ about the world.  I came by to thank you, but now I’m thinking…”  He hesitated, then pulled something oblong and glowing out of his front pocket.  With a swipe of his hand, it became two somethings.  He handed one each to Aziraphale and Crowley.

“That’s my direct line.  It’ll bypass the Metatron.  And it’s not bugged.  I got Izzy – you know Izzy?  From Seville?”

“Certainly,” said Aziraphale, with enough warmth to merit a sideways look from Crowley.

“I got Izzy to check it for me.  Next time it looks like there might be trouble, call me.  Or I’ll be in touch with you.  We need to work together on this.”

Crowley seemed to think this was funny.  “What, you, us and twelve other guys?”  And then in response to Yeshua’s expression, “Nah, I’m not making fun of you, kid.  You always _were_ good at organizing.  I’m more of a lone snake myself.  Never figured out how you did it.”

“Not quite so much of a ‘lone snake’ these days, my dear,” Aziraphale reminded him.  “Yeshua, we will certainly contact you at the first sign of trouble.  I, for one, have had enough of dealing with the Metratron to last me the rest of eternity.”

“Thanks, guys!  Are you two going to London Pride this year?  Mags and John and I were thinking of coming down for it.  By the way, Mags says to say hi to Madame Tracy.”

“Oh,” said Aziraphale, “I didn’t know they knew each other!”

“It’s a professional connection,” explained Yeshua.  “Hey, before I go, do you have any Middle Eastern cookbooks?  Mum wants to try some new recipes.”

“I’ll have a look.”  Aziraphale turned away to consult his catalog, leaving Crowley standing there looking slightly puzzled.

“The Almighty wants to try some new recipes?”

Yeshua smiled.  “Nah, not Mom.  _Mum_.”

Aziraphale left the catalog to rummage among the shelves, from which he extracted a couple of volumes.  “Here you are!  Let me know what she thinks of them…  Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly, they’re on the house.”

“Thanks! Love ya!”  And books under his arm, Yeshua bar Maryam left the bookshop.

“Well, that happened,” said Crowley.  “The Ritz, angel?  And _are_ you doing Pride properly this year instead of just hanging rainbow bunting all over the outside of the shop?”

“I know you always go…” Aziraphale replied as he turned the sign to Closed and made sure the shop’s door was locked behind them.

“Sure.  Scrambling the letters on anti-Pride protest signs is far too much fun to miss.”

“And riding a float dressed as a drag queen?”

“That was _once_ , angel.  Now tell me about this Izzy…”


End file.
